


Fallen

by Proudtobeinvisible



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempted Rape, Collab fic with someone I know irl, Fallen Angel, Flying, God - Freeform, Hope you enjoy, M/M, Murder, Nothing explicit, Nuns, Religion, attempted desecration, cute gay relationship, everything is just mentioned, makeshift confession, nothing graphic, risen angels, this sounds darker than it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudtobeinvisible/pseuds/Proudtobeinvisible
Summary: PLEASE READ THE TAGS.  This story contains attempted rape and an actual murder, but I promise you there is nothing explicit. It is mentioned though.So Sister Elizabeth finds Andrew trying to burn down a statue of Jesus Christ, and instead of calling the police she takes him into church to find out why.  Read to find out Andrew's tragic backstory and how he tries to come back to the Lord.HUGE SHOUTOUT TO ISA! Who wrote half of it.  I wrote Andrew's pov, she wrote Elizabeth's pov.  I hope you guys enjoy!  Comment, Kudos, check out my other works!Enjoy!





	Fallen

"What in the...?" I frowned, brow furrowed as I watched the strange man, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the night.

 

A strange young man stood next to the statue of Jesus on the Cross next to a statue of an awed child. The man seemed to be piling kindling on the crucifix... Was he going to burn it down?! That... That's unacceptable! Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I hid behind the corner of the nearby wall. It wouldn't be very polite for a nun, of all people, to interrupt what could be a sacred prayer... Still, If that was a prayer, I'd never seen that particular one before.

 

He stood there for a while, just looking at the statue, his ombré hair  messy. The pale, heavily-tattooed man seemed to observe the child statue, who was right next to Jesus and staring up at him with a mixture of sorrow and awe, for quite a while. As I watched, he took a cigarette out from his pocket and lit it with a lighter, taking care that nothing fell onto the... what was hopefully just wood. 

 

Soon enough, he put out his cigarette, much to my relief. But then, to my horror, he struck an actual match.

 

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," the man snarled mockingly, holding the  match over the pile of wood - kindling and fuel.

 

My feet moved without thinking; I ran from my hiding place and reached for his arm, clutching it with a death grip in my hand and shoving him to the ground, my dark brown skin helping me to approach him unnoticed. He didn't move, seemingly stunned. While he was laying on the ground, I stamped out the match with my shoe, which he'd dropped next to the kindling in his surprise.

 

"Stop right there! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I screamed, furious at his arson attempt. "One, that's completely illegal, and two, that's straight up wrong! You're burning down something belonging to a church!"

 

The man slowly rose, brushing himself off and towering above me. The man rolled his eyes, obviously finding my small stature not at all intimidating. 

 

Eyeing me, he smirked confidently. "What does it look like, sister? I'm just settling some personal business between me and ol' Father here."

 

I scowled. "What's your name, young man?"

 

He rolled his eyes and chuckled mockingly, as if laughing at a joke that only he knew. "It's Lucifer, sweetie. Lord of Darkness and Chaos himself."

 

"Your real name," I grabbed his shirt and twisted it, rising up on my tiptoes to match his height. "And don't even think about lying again."

 

He all but snarled. "It's Andrew. Andrew... Smith."

 

I let his shirt go. His last name was  obviously a lie, but Andrew seemed to be his real first name.

 

"All right, Andy Pandy," I smirked as he cringed at the childish nickname, "first, you're going to clean this mess up. Second, we're going to deal with your problems with the Lord."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "What, are you gonna make me go to Confession or something?"

 

I watched his eyes darken with horror as I felt my own light up.

 

"As a matter of fact, I will. Now clean," I ordered.

 

He seemed to be debating whether or not to make a break for it. Just in case, I puffed out my chest and started tapping my foot, hoping to intimidate him enough so that he wouldn't run.

 

That seemed to work. Andrew got back down onto the ground and picked up all of the wood, stashing it back inside the bag he'd brought with him.

 

Afterwards, he lit another cigarette and started smoking, much to my annoyance. With a growl, I plucked it out of his mouth and made a grand show out of stamping it out on the ground, slipping the piece of trash inside his bag afterwards.

 

"Hey!" He protested, brows furrowed and eyes sharp with fury.

 

Whoops, now might be a good time to go.

 

"Let's go, buddy, we're taking you to church!" I grabbed his wrist and led him into the chapel, checking to make sure that no one was present.

 

I sat him down at a pew, and I sat in the pew in front of him. "So here's how we're doing this. All rifts in our relationship with God comes from sin, so obviously something's bothering your conscious or you feel that He's doing something that hurt you. And yes, I know that Confession doesn't usually happen in the chapel, but that is irrelevant, mostly because I only have access to the chapel at this time of night. So, Andy, let's hear what you've got to say."

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

ANDREW

 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m pissed at the man upstairs,”  I sneered, leaning back in the pew.

 

“Why?” The woman challenged. For a nun, she sure is fierce. 

 

“Because what the hell has He ever done for me?” I asked cynically, turning my head away.

 

She delivered a powerful slap to my temple. 

 

“OW!”  I growled, rubbing the back of my head.  “That hurt!”

 

“Do NOT curse in a church!”  She snarled. "Tell me why you were trying to burn down that statue. And while you're at it, tell me about yourself."

 

“This is all you're getting: I hate God and God hates me,”  I deadpanned.

 

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why?”

 

“I’m not exactly a textbook Catholic, am I?” I asked, gesturing to my extensive tattoos.  “God doesn’t exactly approve of tattoos. Not to mention that I just tried to burn down a Jesus statue."

 

“God doesn't care about how we look, just about what we do... And, um, I'm sure He'll forgive you for that!" The nun smiled optimistically.

 

“I’m beyond being forgiven at this point,”  I said, reminiscing about my past.

 

“Why?”

 

"Sins like mine aren't forgiven, and they're too much for you to handle."

 

“Hmph. Try me.”

 

“You asked for it,”  I said, looking her in the eyes. "I fell in love with the wrong person.”

 

"How the heck is that a sin too much for me to handle? Love is never a sin in the eyes of God- Oh... You fell for a boy?” She asked softly, touching my shoulder.

 

I jerked away from her.  “You going to tell me that I’m going to Hell now?” 

 

“No... God doesn't discriminate based on whom you love." She mused softly.

 

“When we both stand before Him on Judgment Day-"

 

“God will look at us equally, and see nothing different. Hopefully, He'll accept us both into Heaven," she interrupted, clutching her rosary with an air of certainty. “Now, tell me about that boy you love, Andy.” 

 

I focused on her voice, trying to ignore my surroundings.

 

“He’s sweet, kind, smart... Basically the boy every girl wants. His name was Peter, and he was perfect.”  I sighed with my eyes closed, his face painted behind my eyelids.  “He had a sweet little sister, Ella. I don’t know why, but she adored me... So did Peter. God, he loved me so much.”

 

I thought of the memories we'd shared, the laughs and the kisses and everything else. 

 

“What’s your name anyways?” I asked, eyeing her curiously.

 

“Sister Elizabeth.”  She said proudly, smiling at me. "Y'know, I think you're actually a good man."

 

“... How’d you react if I told you I killed someone?”  I asked, not sure what compelled me to share my secrets

 

“I’d ask why,”  She said, her voice carefully impassive. 

 

“The man I killed... He was going to rape Ella...” I said, eyes dark. “I lost it.”

 

I tugged my own hair out of stress. "I killed the sorry bastard, watched as his soul left his body. I hate to think that God looked at him and maybe brought him into heaven on account of the ang... boy... who killed him was in love with her brother,” I confessed, staring unwaveringly at Sister Elizabeth. 

 

"Hm... I know killing someone isn't ever ethical, but God forgives sins done in defense." The nun did her best to comfort me.

 

“I don't think He will... I didn’t want to kill that man..." My voice cracked, and a single tear ran down my face.  “But I lost it, I heard Ella screaming and I just lost it.” 

 

“You don’t have to tell me,”  she said, reaching out to comfort me.  “See, Andy, God still loves you.  He'll always love you.”

 

“You’re not getting it,”  I said, jerking away from her again.  “I am beyond forgiving.”

 

“No! You aren't past forgiving! No one is!”  She said forcefully. 

 

“Then what am I?”  I exploded, screaming at the top of my lungs. 

 

"You're just... a lost lamb," Elizabeth decided thoughtfully.

 

How far those of my kind can fall. “You have to be sorry to be saved,” I said bitterly, “I’m not.” 

 

“I wouldn’t be either,” she replied honestly, "but sometimes God uses words to let us know we're loved.

 

“We aren’t God, we are human,” I said softly, staring down at my chest. “Words are just a hindrance sometimes.” 

 

I hiccuped, trying to conceal my sobs, but they spilled out quickly. “God I love him so much!” I bent over, not wanting her to see my tears. 

 

Sister Elizabeth quickly moved from her pew to mine, taking my hand in hers and gently stroking my hair. I’ve always been an ugly crier, and now is no different.  I cried harder now than I did when I left Peter and Ella. Elizabeth was still holding my hand, providing comfort silently. 

 

"God, why did I leave you, Peter MacArthur?" I sobbed.

 

She let me cry until I was done.  I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, rubbing them until I could calm down. 

 

“Do you some water or something?” She asked tentatively when I had stopped crying.

 

“As long as it's not holy,” I said, loosening my grip on her. 

 

“Of course," she smiled, getting up to fetch some water. 

 

I rubbed the back of my neck, smiling up at the ceiling. Accepting the water she gave me, I dipped my finger into the water.  I ran my wet fingertip under my eyes, sighing as it relieved some of the puffiness. 

 

I heard Elizabeth sigh as I downed the rest of the water, and I looked at her expectantly. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

ELIZABETH

 

I sighed, emotionally drained by the life story that I'd just heard. Still, Andy seemed to be much more comfortable with himself now, hopeful even. I smiled to myself, glad that I could help him.

 

"Do you have a place to stay?" I asked, rising from the pew and walking into the aisle.

 

He mimicked my actions, shaking his head. "After leaving Peter?”  He questioned, breathing out through his mouth.  “Been bouncing around from shelter to shelter, I don’t really have a place anymore.”

 

"Hmm..." I mused. "I wake up earlier than the rest of the sisters... You should be able to stay in the monastery for one night. Ours is a normal house, so you shouldn't have any problems leaving in the morning. Is that good? Tomorrow, we'll meet somewhere, and we'll discuss what you can do to get back on your feet."

 

Andy nodded in agreement, “I got nothing else to lose,” he said with a small smile on his face. 

 

He looked a lot… lighter.  As if the weight on his shoulders was lifted. Who would've known that a simple late-night talk could've helped him this much? 

 

Quietly, we left the chapel, watchful for any signs of life. We jogged the short distance to the monastery and entered silently, not wanting to wake the other sisters... I'm the only late sleeper and early riser. The others are, to be blunt, too old to do that, and I had only been outside finishing up an errand for Father.

 

"Hope you like the floor, bud," I whispered as we entered my room. "You can have my pillow, though."

 

“I thought nuns were supposed to be giving and all that shit.  Shouldn't you give me the bed?”  He snarked.

 

I gave him a flat look. 

 

“Of course not. Now, I’m going to get into my pajamas,”  I said, giving him a pointed look. 

 

Andy turned around to give me privacy as I changed into my pajamas, and I tossed the pillow to him as we both settled down for the night. Quietly, I muttered my night prayers to myself, hearing Andy's snores quickly fill the room. Smiling to myself, I relaxed and let myself drift to sleep.

 

 

 

I woke up the next morning still exhausted yet satisfied with yesterday's events.

 

"Mornin, Andy Pandy. How'd you sleep?" I asked, looking at the ground next to me. 

 

To my shock, however, there was no one there. There was, however, my pillow, completely neat, along with an eloquent, freshly made breakfast (that I'd share with the other sisters, of course) and... two long, pure white feathers arranged in the shape of a crucifix.

 

How strange.

 

Getting up from bed, I stooped down to examine the feather. Picking it up, it was so soft that it was almost surreal, and its beauty was simply ethereal. Turning one of the feathers over, I was pleasantly surprised to see a note attached to it:

 

"'I have to go for now. But don't worry. I'll definitely see you in the next life. Take care, Sister, and I hope you like my feathers.  God bless,'" I read from the note. "Next life, huh? I like the sound of that."

 

Placing the note under my pillow, I smiled happily and began preparing for the day.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

ANDREW

 

After I set my head down on the pillow, I was asleep in seconds, dreaming impossible dreams. Peter loving and forgiving me. My wings. All the impossible things I wished for an infinite amount of times. 

 

I rolled over from sleeping on my stomach, groaning uncomfortably as I met resistance trying to turn over.  “What the-"

 

My hand flew to my back, coming into contact with feathery softness. “No way.”

 

I pulled them around to the front, and I got a face full of whiteness, “Oh, God.”

 

I sobbed, stroking the feathers.  I have my wings back.  I have my wings back.

 

“God, if I knew you'd give me my wings back if I tried to set you on fire, I would have done it sooner,”  I laughed, rubbing them harder.  

 

Sister Elizabeth stirred, and I froze.  What if she saw me?

 

I stood up in a flurry, sprinting downstairs and making breakfast for her. I brought it back upstairs quietly, setting it on the floor along with a note and my feathers arranged into a crucifix.

 

“God bless Sister Elizabeth," I whispered, shutting the door softly. 

 

The sky was beautiful. I flapped my wings, taking off into the sea of blue. 

 

I flew higher, higher, admiring the strain of my aching wings.  How I missed the taste of the heavens.

Ring the bells, beat the drums.  Andrew the Fallen has Risen up anew. 

 

I landed nearly at dusk, staring at the standard one-story house in front of me. 

 

I didn't move forward, content with saying my goodbyes just to the house, and not the people inside of it. 

 

But before I could take off, a familiar face came out, holding a bag of trash.

 

Peter stood there stunned, slowly making his way to me.  

 

“Hi,”  I said, rocking back on my feet. 

 

“You have wings,"  He replied, staring at me bluntly.

 

“I do.”

 

“Please tell me you didn’t get those because some psycho kidnapped you and attached them?”

 

“No,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “I was kinda born into existence with them.”

 

“I don’t know the protocol for your ex-boyfriend having wings…. But I guess they’re nice?”  He questioned, not taking his eye off of the space above my head. 

 

“Thanks,”  I said, rocking back and forth, tugging on my hair. 

 

“So, what are you doing back?” He asked.

 

“I lied to you,”  I said suddenly, clenching my jaw. 

 

“About?”

 

“I’m an angel,”  I blurted out, chewing my lip. “Like heavenly, as in God.  As in, I am a literal angel of God.”

 

“I slept with an angel,” he murmured.

 

I was surprised. “Not the first thing I would think of, but yeah.”

 

“Is that all you lied to me about?” He questioned.

 

“Yeah.”

 

He didn’t look at me, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. 

 

“I’m sorry,”  I blurted out, pressing my wings closer into my back.

 

I was so afraid their reassuring weight was going to disappear. 

 

“For killing a man? Or leaving without even telling us?”  He said, glaring at me.  “Leaving me in our empty bed?  No note goodbye?” 

 

His voice was quiet, but it hit me like a train. I blinked back tears as they formed in my eyes. “I know.”

 

“I’m sorry,”  I repeated, biting my cheek. 

 

“Sorry doesn’t make up for all the nights we spent searching for you,”  he said, his voice turning into a growl. “Sorry doesn’t change anything!”

 

I closed my eyes, trying to get the courage to speak. “I know.”

 

“You know? Then why would you leave us?”

 

“Because you hate me!”  The words flew out of my mouth and my eyes snapped open.

 

“You killed a man!”  He screamed back, I bunched my hair in my hands. 

 

“You don’t think I know that?”  I whispered, barely looking at him.  “Tell me Peter, you don’t care about that?  All that love you felt for me is now hatred?”

 

I’m scared.  I am so freaking scared.

 

“You’re the one who left!”

 

“YOU STOPPED LOVING ME!”  I screamed, breaking down into tears.  “You stopped loving me, and you weren’t going to make me leave, even though you wanted me to. I left myself.”

 

“I was scared of you.  I didn’t ever stop loving you for a second.”

 

“Scared of me…” 

 

“You killed a man!”

 

“Who was trying to rape your sister.”

 

“You still killed someone.”

 

I was silent. 

 

“Do you even feel sorry?” Peter asked, voice soft.

 

“For killing a man?  Of course.  But for saving your sister? No way.”

 

“I forgave you, you know.  For killing him.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you saved my sister!”  He said indignantly, clenching his jaw so hard I thought he would shatter his teeth.  “How could I not?” 

 

I didn’t respond and my chest deflated. The fight left me, I was done.  Maybe this was the G-man telling me that Peter wasn’t for me.  

 

I tucked my hands in my pockets, turning to walk away.

 

“You’re not walking away from me again?”  He asked, his voice breaking. “Andrew. Why are you leaving?”

 

“You don’t want me,”   I said, walking a tad slower. 

 

“I love you.  Don’t leave me again.   Please, I don’t think I could live if you left me again.”  I looked over my shoulder at him.  “Don’t leave me, Andrew. Please.”

 

“I don’t want to be with you if you’re just remembering how you used to love me.”

 

“You think I ever stopped?”  He asked, the pain evident in his voice. 

 

He looked defeated, tears dripping down his face and finger rubbing his ring. He was too pretty when he cried. 

 

“I will never stop loving you... Ella misses you. She keeps saying that we shouldn’t have been scared of you. God, she was right. If I had known that you’d leave me… I would've done everything to keep you here."

 

I was silent. The matching ring around my own finger seemed to burn.

 

“Say something,” he said, clenching his fists harder.

 

“I should leave,” I said, starting to walk away again.

 

“NO!”  He screamed, grabbing my arm.  “Please, I can’t live without you.”

 

Again, I didn't reply.

 

“Do you still love me?”  He asked, eyes searching mine.  

 

“... Of course I do."

 

“Then why are you leaving?”

 

“I… don’t know.”

 

“Please, stay?" He begged again.

 

“I… There are others like me,”  I said, remembering the other angels who believed God didn’t love them anymore.  “I need to save them.”

 

“What about me?”  He asked, clenching his teeth.

 

I didn’t know how to respond. 

 

“Can't you just stay here with Ella and me and leave when you need to save someone?”

 

He reached for me, grabbing my hand.  Pressing his left hand into mine, I heard the clank of metal on metal as our rings bumped each other.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Can’t or won't?”  He asked.

 

“Won't.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I'm scared. What if I do something stupid and lose you again?”

 

“Never,”  he promised, lacing our hands together. “You never lost me to begin with.”

 

He pressed his lips to mine.  And I was home.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

ELIZABETH

 

"So, lemme get this straight. You're an angel."

 

Andy nodded at me.

 

"And you stayed away from God for a few years because you were afraid of His wrath.

 

Another nod.

 

"And I, a human, helped an angel, literally a soldier of the Heavens, reconnect with the Lord Himself."

 

Andy nodded again.

 

"And you didn't even bother to tell me that you were an angel?!" I lunged forward, pinching his ear harshly.

 

"Hey, hey, take it easy, old woman!" He yelped, trying to squirm away.

 

"Do I look old anymore? I may have died of old age, but I like to think that I look as spry as I did back when I met you!" I scolded.

 

I sighed, letting go of his ear. Finally, Heaven. Purgatory had been boring, but it was a much needed bore. And it was well worth it. The beauty around me couldn't even be described. All around me, angels and purified spirits buzzed as they went about their business, whatever souls in Heaven even did.

 

"So, did you ever reconnect with your boyfriend?" I asked.

 

"It's... a long story, but it turned out well," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

 

"Yeah, as special thanks for helping an angel reconnect with God, my boss, Jerry, sent me down here to welcome you into Heaven personally!" Andy grinned.

 

I tilted my head. "Your boss, an archangel... is named Jerry?"

 

"Hey," he shrugged, "Not everyone has a fancy, old-fashioned name around here."

 

"Right... So, you gonna show me around or what?" I replied.

 

"Oh yeah!" Andy grinned, spreading his wings. "I'm here to give you a grand tour of Le Kingdom de Heaven! Grab onto my shoulders so that you can actually fly around! Though... I haven't flown in a few centuries, since I haven't had a reason to, so we might fall or something."

 

Right. Well, this would be interesting.

 


End file.
